Faith Trumps Logic
by Col3725
Summary: Everything seems normal, except for one thing...their daughter's crib is empty.
1. Chapter 1

Booth wakes up to the shift in weight on his partner's side of the bed. He rubs his eyes and turns his head towards Brennan, who's now sitting up staring at the clock. "Bones?"

Brennan looks at him and swallows. "It's seven o'clock."

"Thanks. I was confused."

"It's seven o'clock and Christine isn't awake yet," she clarifies.

"Well, it's Saturday. Maybe she finally realized that her mom and dad like to sleep in once in a while. Just go back to bed, Bones. She's fine."

"She should be awake, Booth. She usually is."

"Christine's fine," he repeats and scoots closer to her. He presses a kiss to her neck and brushes his thumb against the back of her hand. "Go back to bed."

She relents and lies back down, resting her head on the pillow and closing her eyes. Not even five minutes pass before she's sitting up again, staring at the clock. She nudges her sleeping partner and turns to face him. "Booth." When he doesn't react, she shoves him again. "Booth? Booth."

"Bones," he groans.

"Booth, wake up." She pushes him harder.

He bolts awake, sitting up and rubbing his cheek. "I'm up. I'm up."

"Christine should be awake by now," she repeats.

He nods and gets out of bed slowly, his whole body cracking. He reaches for his bathrobe and fights back a yawn. "Come on, Bones. Let's go check on our daughter. If that will help you sleep another half hour, I'll feed into your delusion."

"It's not a delusion, Booth. Call it mother's intuition if you must, but I know my daughter and I know she should be awake by now. It's 7:08. She's usually awake by five minutes to seven."

He hooks his arm around her shoulder when she meets up to him at the door, and kisses her softly on the lips, brushing a piece of her hair away from her eyes, which are tinted with a thin layer of tears.

* * *

The two of them walk down the hallway to Christine's room and Brennan pushes open the door. Everything seems normal. Nothing's out of place, the shades are still drawn, and the door was still slightly ajar. She takes a few steps towards the crib and then another couple until she's standing above the crib. "Booth."

He jerks at the pang of emotion in her voice and rushes over to her. The crib is empty. Her favorite pink bunny and her blanket are missing too. He rushes out of the room and into their bedroom. He scrambles to get to the phone and then immediately dials the police. His heart is racing and his voice shakes as he practically yells at the person on the other end of the conversation.

Meanwhile, Brennan just stands by the crib, staring into the emptiness and trying to think of who could have taken Christine. She swallows and goes through every creepy person she came in contact with while she was on the run, every pissed off criminal she helped put behind bars, and every bitter ex-lover she's had. This has to be her fault. Christine is just an innocent child, so logically, there's no way she could already have enemies, right?

* * *

Booth comes back, looking more exhausted than he had just moments ago. His eyes are red from tears, his shoulders are hunched slightly, and his movements are slower. "The police are on their way," he barely gets out.

Brennan just nods, not really paying attention to him. She reaches into the crib and grabs Christine's stuffed giraffe. She looks at it and pulls it closer to her, as a few tears roll down her cheeks. Booth appears at her side and she immediately buries her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him tightly, her hand still gripping her daughter's giraffe.

He completes the embrace and rubs her back lightly, slipping his fingers through her hair. "We'll find her, Temperance. We'll find who took her. I promise, baby. We'll find her. I won't sleep until she's in my arms and that bastard is in the ground." He swallows and sways slightly. "We'll find her," he repeats to himself, trying to convince himself more than anyone else. As an FBI agent, he's been in charge of finding several missing children, and only a handful of those kids have been found and returned to their families alive. He knows the odds, but right now, faith trumps logic.

* * *

___I'm still new to Bones and Bones fanfiction, but I h_ad this idea and it's been bugging me, so I decided to finally write it down.

_Do you want me to continue? _


	2. Chapter 2

**_Thanks for the reviews...enjoy _**

* * *

Booth's pacing back and forth in his living room, trying to calm himself down so he doesn't reach out and strangle the uniformed officer talking to him. "Instead of standing here, questioning us, you should be out there looking for the son of a bitch who took Christine," he grumbles, his voice sounding like he's on the verge of crying. "Before I do."

Sweets, who's standing off to the side, clears his throat. "Agent Booth."

"Oh, don't you start."

"I think—."

"What did I just say? Go do your shrinky-dinky thing somewhere else." Booth walks away from the officer and Dr. Sweets, walking over to Brennan.

Brennan's sitting on the armrest of the couch, brushing her hand against her daughter's baby blanket. She's staring at the moniker stitched into the corner as she wipes away a tear and blinks. "Do you honestly think we're going to find her?" She questions, sensing Booth's presence beside her. "I mean, find her alive?"

He nods. "I do." It's less than convincing. He knows it. She knows it too.

She stands up and drapes the blanket over the play pen. "I'll be upstairs getting ready for work." She starts to walk towards the stairs, but he grabs her wrist, giving it a slight tug. She turns her head and looks at him. They keep their gaze on each other until a crime scene tech interrupts them.

"There seems to be no evidence of forced entry."

Booth ignores him and takes his partner's hands. He leans towards her and kisses her on the lips, not at all concerned with the eyewitnesses.

Brennan feels the painful and uncomfortable prick of fresh tears starting to form, so she pulls her hands back and retreats up the steps, closing herself off in her bathroom.

He sighs and goes back to pacing, pulling out his phone and making a few angry calls, trying to remain calm once again. It's impossible, he quickly realizes. He freezes when the house phone starts to ring. He glances at an officer and then picks it up slowly. He doesn't recognize the caller ID, but answers the phone anyway. He puts it on speaker phone and feels his hands going numb. He only hears bits and pieces, _Christine, five million dollars, behind the swings, by midnight, or she'll die. _The conversation cuts off and he clutches the phone, panting, trying to get the sound of his daughter's faint screams out of his head.

The room has quieted down, every single body in the room ceases to move, and time stands still for at least a few minutes.

Booth collapses onto the arm of the couch, the phone falling into his lap. He picks up Christine's pink ball and fiddles with it, passing it between his hands and squeezing it. He closes his eyes, tears threatening to escape.

"I know this isn't the best time, Agent Booth, but I really think—."

"Would you shut up? Just shut up! I'm not interested in what you think right now, _Dr_. _Sweets_," Booth emphasizes and slumps forward, rubbing his eyes. He clasps his hands, drops his head slightly, and whispers a prayer to himself. He stands up after signing the cross, and disappears upstairs without any warning.

* * *

It's around 11:30 AM, and Brennan's standing on the forensic platform, elbow deep in a skeleton from 17th century France. She's fondling the bones, running her finger along the right edge of the mystery man's mandible. She's been dealing with the media and police all morning, so this is a much needed break from all that chaos.

Angela is walking past the platform when she notices Brennan hunched over the skeleton. She rolls her eyes and swipes her card, walking up the steps and heading over to her best friend. She rests her hand on Brennan's shoulder and squeezes. "Go home, sweetie, be with Booth. These bones aren't going anywhere."

Brennan ignores her, sucking back tears and staring intently at the cracked bone. "You see this? No remodeling."

"He got punched in the jaw just before he died—very nice, Bren, really." Angela pauses. "Sweetie." She catches a few tears that drip down Brennan's cheek and takes the bone from her, despite her many protests. She sets it down in the empty space on the table and grabs Brennan's hand, tightening her grip and looking into her eyes, offering the slightest smile. "Go home."

Brennan pulls her hand back and walks off the platform, storming off towards bone storage, ignoring her best friend's pleas. She can't go home. If she goes home, she'll just be sitting around, waiting. At least if she's at work, the unidentified skeletons will keep her busy, so she'll have less time to think about things.

* * *

**_Hope you liked this chapter._**


	3. Chapter 3

It's 1:15 in the afternoon and Brennan's sitting on her office couch, staring at her phone, at her background image. It's a picture of Booth asleep on the living room rug with Christine asleep on his chest, her little hand wrapped around his shirt collar, his hand resting on the infant's back.

She smiles through tears and sighs, continuing to stare at the picture. She remembers exactly when she took it. It was after dinner a week ago. She was cleaning up in the kitchen and Booth had just walked into the living room with their daughter. One minute they were on the floor, he was reading her a story and she was giggling and pointing at the pictures, and the next, they were knocked out. He was snoring and she was blowing bubbles, her little feet twitching as she slept.

She's swept away by the memory so much so that she fails to realize she has a visitor. She jerks when a hand lands on her shoulder, and slowly turns her head. She sucks on her bottom lip and looks up, trying to smile. "Hey, Booth," she chokes out, cutting a glance back at her phone screen. She can't help it. "Any new leads?"

He shakes his head. "But the best people are working on it. They've got agents at the park, looking. They've got agents perched at the house. They've got agents all over the city." He pauses. "But the ransom, um, the FBI won't—unless there's proof of life from the kidnapper."

She holds up her hand. "I've already got that covered, Booth. I took care of it earlier." She stands up and walks over to her desk. She pulls out a black duffle back from under her chair and swallows. "Five million dollars, cash."

"Bones."

"It's just pocket change," she reasons, "but I'd empty my entire bank account for her if I had to."

His lips curve into a smile and his eyes twinkle a little at that, but a second later, he's sighing.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing. What is it, Booth?"

"I don't have that kind of money."

"Well, I do, so I don't see the problem."

"Half, remember?"

"Our daughter is missing and you're worried about that? The ransom is paid. That's all that should matter right now, Booth."

He nods. "I know."

She steps closer to him and links their fingers together. She looks at him and leans against him.

He drops a kiss on the top of her head and closes his eyes. For a moment, it's silent, his forehead resting against hers. "I thought spending the morning at the gun range would help. It only made me angrier. I missed the target a few times—completely missed it."

She nods. "I thought spending the morning identifying ancient remains would help. It didn't. I couldn't focus. After a while, the skeletons just looked like piles of bones." She drops her hand and wraps her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. She lets out a breath and closes her eyes.

"We'll find her. We'll get the money to the FBI and we'll—." He's interrupted by the phone ringing.

They freeze and separate from each other. She turns around and walks over to her desk. She picks up her phone and keeps her eyes on Booth while she answers the call, putting it on speaker phone. "Dr. Brennan."

"_Tick-Tock,_" the mysterious voice says, followed by a cough, the sound of a hand against flesh, a high-pitched cry, and what sounds like the scraping of metal against metal, then click and finally…silence.

Brennan slams the phone down and falls back against her desk.

Booth swallows and kicks the couch harder than he expected to. "Ow." He limps over to his partner and brushes away her tears. "It's just a game he's playing, Bones. That's all it is—a game." It's his attempt to make them both feel better. It's failing—at least on his end.

She looks at him, her eyes swimming, and nods. She feels his lips against hers shortly after and she can't bring herself to break the kiss. She finally steps back and swallows. "You should, uh, you should get the ransom money to the FBI."

He nods and tucks her hair behind her ear, skimming his hand against her damp, pale cheek. "Faith, not logic, Bones. We'll find her alive." He pauses. "I love you."

"I love you too." She squeezes his thumb just as he walks around her to grab the duffle bag.

"Come with me."

"I—."

"I just want to be near you right now. I _need_ to be with you." He gives her one of his charming smiles, but this one is different. It's covering up pain. She can see it in his eyes and in the way his lips twitch as they curve into his famous smirk, as if he's unsure of it.

She caves and grabs her coat.

"Are you hungry?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"Me either," he confesses and hooks his arm around hers. He kisses her temple and they walk out of her office.

* * *

**_Thanks for the reviews and alerts. They keep me writing._**

**_A/N: A little teaser for the next chapter: A body is found..._**


	4. Chapter 4

It's half past five and Brennan and Booth are sitting in the conference room, passing mug shots between them. She sighs. She recognizes all five of the men in these photos, but none of them seem capable of kidnapping, but she's still new at using her gut and still unsure of it, so who knows? "This is useless. No one can tell what someone is capable of by looking at a picture. Sure, their criminal records are an indication of their past actions, but we need evidence, hard evidence. We have nothing." She pushes the chair back and stands up, leaving the room.

Booth leans forward, resting his chin against his clasped hands, his elbows digging into the tabletop. He sighs and closes his eyes.

The Agent watches Brennan walk out in a huff and then turns to Booth. "We're doing our best, Agent Booth."

He shifts. "Well, do better than that." He stands up and walks out, following his partner's lead. He meets up with Brennan in his office.

* * *

Brennan's standing by Booth's desk, looking at the picture of Christine prominently displayed for him to stare at while he's doing paperwork. She jumps when she hears footsteps. She sure is jumpy today, but who can blame her?

"I love that picture of her, especially her socks," Booth says, placing a hand on his partner's shoulder, glancing at the picture in the frame.

She nods and sighs. "Like father like daughter."

"Hey, we'll find her, Bones."

She sets the frame down on the desk and looks him square in the face. "No matter how many times you say it, it doesn't make it true."

He sighs. "Faith, not logic," he repeats.

"Faith is irrational. It's not going to find our daughter. It's not going to make this any easier, so why bother with it at all?" She slumps down in the chair and wipes a tear from her cheek.

"Having faith makes me feel better and whether you believe in it or not, it does make it easier. It helps, okay, Bones? It helps. Having faith that Christine will be okay, that we'll find her basically unharmed, makes each passing minute easier for me. It's keeping me from giving up." He pauses. "You know what kept me going when you were buried in that car? When the timer hit zero, telling us that you and Hodgins had run out of air, and everyone else was ready to give up? Faith. Faith in a higher power and faith in you. It's not irrational or silly or stupid. Faith is important."

She watches the wrinkle between his brows deepen with each word he says. She sighs. This is hardly a time for them to be arguing about such trivial things.

"Let yourself believe she's okay, Bones. It helps. Trust me."

She loves Christine, so she should be willing to do irrational things, like believe, have faith and hope, and pray that everything will be okay, right? She gives him a nod and lets out a breath.

He smiles at her, but it quickly fades when his phone rings. He picks it up off the desk and answers it. "Agent Booth." A minute later, his hand goes numb and the phone crashes to the floor.

"The kidnapper?"

He shakes his head. "No, um, they, uh, they found a body."

She blinks. "Where?"

He shifts. "At the park, in the bushes behind the swings."

She swallows. "That's where, that's where we're supposed to—." She's great with words, with getting to the point of things normally, but right now, she's a mess. She can't bring herself to say what she's thinking, so she's grateful Booth knows her well enough to decipher her babbling.

He nods. "It doesn't mean it's Christine, it doesn't mean it's her, okay? It doesn't."

"This your gut telling you that?"

"No, Bones." He pauses. "I'm gonna make a few calls, make a few threats, and get some answers." That's how he got them to agree to call him if they found anything in the first place.

She nods again. "Man of action," she whispers to herself and shifts on the chair she's sitting in. Her hands are shaking and her heart is racing, as the image of her baby girl lying in a ditch behind the swings, bruised, bloodied, naked, and lifeless takes over her mind. She begins to imagine her baby girl being too beat up to identify her by her face, so someone has to resort to dental records and x-rays to prove who she is. She's getting ahead of herself now. She doesn't even know if the body in the park was a girl, much less a child.

Booth hangs up the phone and looks over at his partner, who's in another world it seems like. "Temperance."

She tweaks an eyebrow at the sound of her name and turns her head. "Anything?"

He hesitates, "All they know right now is that the victim is young, around six to twelve months, female, and," he swallows, "there's evidence of, uh—."

She holds up her hand, not needing to hear anything else.

"Her face, uh, it's too, um, they can't tell—." He can hardly speak.

She nods. "How long has she been dead?"

He shrugs. "They wouldn't tell me, but it's gotta be more than a day if she's not recognizable, right?"

"Not necessarily. There are a lot of factors that—."

"Faith."

"I'm trying."

"They'll call back if they find anything—." He's cut off by his phone ringing. He glances at it and then opens up the message. He gasps and looks over at Brennan again.

She stands up and takes the phone from him. Her eyes fall to the picture and then back up at Booth. "Christine's bunny."

"He's messing with us, Bones. That's all."

She ignores him. "Booth, where did they find it?"

"Under the body," he barely manages to say.

* * *

**_Horrible place to stop, I know. _**

**_You guys rock. Keep it up!_**

**_:)_**


	5. Chapter 5

Booth's pacing back and forth in his office, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He grunts. "Why haven't they called? It's been almost two hours."

Brennan looks up from her own phone and twists her mouth slightly. "They'll call when they have something relevant to the case, Booth."

He stops walking and turns to face her. "How can you say that like it's no big deal? Like our daughter isn't out there, missing, or dead, or I don't even know. You're acting like this is just a normal case."

She draws her bottom lip into her mouth and shifts on the chair. "I'm just as scared as you are, Booth. I'm just more adept at hiding it." She takes in a shaky breath and her chin quivers as she continues, "You think this is easy for me? Waiting? It's not. I want answers. I thrive on answers. I hate not knowing. It's one of the worst feelings in the world. I should know. You should know too." She swallows.

He blinks, taking a small step towards her, instantly feeling guilty for accusing her of not caring.

She looks away from him for a second and then finds his eyes again. "It's not healthy, I know, but keeping my feelings hidden, it's what I've always done, and it helps—or at least, it used to. I miss her, Booth. I want to find her. Figuratively speaking, it's killing me. Not knowing where she is or whether she's alive or dead, it hurts. This isn't just some normal case for me. It never was and it never will be."

His breathing's picking up again as he walks closer to her, close enough to rest his hand on her shoulder, brushing his knuckles against her cheek, wiping away the fresh tears. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—it's just—I'm just—."

After a brief period of silence, she replies, "I know." She tilts her head and looks up at him.

He sits on the armrest and drapes his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. His hand combs through her hair as he looks down at her. "She's just a baby." He pauses. "If the baby at the park isn't Christine, it still means that someone else is missing a child who will never come home." He quickly rubs his cheek and sighs.

She shifts and wraps her arms around his torso, leaning against him. It's an uncomfortable position, but she needs the comfort. Whoever that baby is, whether she's Christine or someone else's baby girl, it's still physically painful thinking about it. It makes her wish Christine wasn't missing, so she could just hug her, give her a soft kiss on the top of her head, and tickle her until she smiles and laughs, with Booth right there, beside his girls, recording it all.

The moment of quiet doesn't last long. Booth's phone starts to ring a few minutes later and he reacts to it quickly, the phone nearly slipping from his grasp. "Agent Booth," he answers.

Brennan watches as her partner's shoulders drop and his expression stays the same, with just a slight twitch of one side of his mouth. She's never been good at reading people's faces or body language, that's usually Booth's or Sweets' job, but nonetheless, she can tell he's relieved, that the person on the phone has just given him good news.

He hangs up and squeezes her shoulder. "Dental records confirm that she isn't Christine."

"Who is she?"

"Emma Fray, eight months old."

She blinks slowly. She's relieved that her daughter could still be alive, but she can't help but think about Emma and the phone call her family is about to receive. She's a pro at compartmentalizing, or she used to be, before she, well, before she met and got close to Booth and gave birth to her daughter. She tries not to let the cases get to her, but she can't help it sometimes. This case, in particular, hits close to home—way, way, way too close.

He leans down and kisses the top of her head. He closes his eyes and breathes in her conditioner.

She rests her hand on his thigh. "I know it's highly unlikely, but I hope all her injuries were inflicted postmortem."

"Me too, Bones, me too."

They stay like that for a couple minutes, until Brennan shifts and stands up. "Can we, uh, can we just go for a drive? I've got no end destination in mind, so don't ask me, but driving around the city in the SUV is, uh, it's comforting. It's mundane. It equals normalcy. With everything that's going on, I need that right now."

He stands up and lifts her chin with his thumb, looking down. "You don't have to explain everything, Bones. I know you." He presses his lips against hers ever so gently, letting one of his hands brush against her neck and the other slide up her side. He breaks the kiss and smiles. "Let's go for a drive. We can go anywhere or nowhere at all. You call the shots. You can even drive if you want."

She hooks her arm around his and they head to the elevator.

"Christine won't give up. She's half you and half me, and we've never given up on anything, especially you." He pauses and mutters under his breath, "I don't doubt it for a second."

Brennan smiles as they disappear into the elevator. She leans against the back wall and nods. "That is true," she whispers just before the doors clamp shut.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading/reviewing/following. _**

**_A/N: I'm still trying to grasp the characters and the show itself, so forgive me if something/someone seems out of character or off in some way. Hope it's not too distracting if it is._**

**_Anyway, h_****_ang in there, guys. I promise happiness is coming. _**

**__****_:)_**


	6. Chapter 6

It's almost ten and Booth and Brennan have been driving around the District of Columbia for the past three hours, in utter silence, aside from the occasional sigh. Brennan's sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV, staring out the window, and Booth is giving her a sideways glance, like usual. He hates seeing her like this, especially when there's nothing he can do to help. "We're gonna survive this, Bones." He pauses. "You and me, always, okay?"

She nods, not keeping her eyes off the window. She didn't need the reassurance, but it's still nice to hear once in a while.

He turns back to the road and then stops at the traffic light. As they sit at the light, his phone rings. He answers it, putting it on speaker phone. "Agent Booth, talk to me."

_"Dad!"_

He smiles. "Parker, hey, buddy."

_"Is Bones with you?"_

Brennan lifts her head. "I'm here, Parker."

_"Hi!"_

"Hello."

_"What's wrong?"_

"Christine is missing," she tells him, looking at Booth, who's giving her a disapproving look. "Don't look at me like that. Parker has a right to know his baby sister was kidnapped, Booth. He's old enough to process this kind of information. We shouldn't lie to him. This isn't like you lying to him about fictitious characters."

"You could have eased into it a little more, Bones."

"What would be the point?" She pauses. "It doesn't matter. It's irrelevant now. He already knows."

_"Dad? Bones?"_

Booth blinks. "Sorry, bud."

_"Are you guys fighting?"_

Booth glances at Brennan and shifts in his seat. "No, Parker. It's just been a really stressful day."

_"Good. I don't want you guys to break up because Christine would live with Bones, right? And I would never see them and that would stink."_

"Don't worry, bud. Bones and I are fine." He steals a quick look at his partner and smiles when he sees her smile. "Wait, it's like three in the morning, why are you up so late?"

_ "I'm not in England, dad. I'm in New York."_

"Since when?"

_"Since I called you." _

Booth laughs. "Are you planning on coming to visit?"

_"If mom lets me, you bet. I think we'll be in Virginia on Wednesday. Maybe then?"_

"Wednesday sounds perfect. Tell your mom we say hi. I hope you can come and visit. I really miss you."

_"I miss you too, dad, and I hope you find Christine."_

"Thanks, Parker. We'll call as soon as we know something."

_"Okay. Mom's back from the bathroom, so I gotta go. I love you."_

"I love you too, Parks."

_"Bye, Bones."_

"Bye, Parker." The phone cuts off and the car falls silent again. She turns her head and stares out the window like before. She lets out a noisy breath and sniffles.

Booth reaches over the center console and nudges her.

She looks at him and swallows. "Booth."

He nods. "I know."

She takes his outstretched hand and blinks her eyes closed, tears welling up behind her eyelids. She leans back against the passenger seat and nibbles on the inside of her bottom lip.

He switches on the radio, just so the car isn't completely silent, and slips his fingers in between hers. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye and his chest tightens as he watches her shoulders rise and fall with each shaky breath she draws in and expels. He brings their clasped hands up to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of her hand.

They sit like that until her cell phone rings ten minutes later. She pulls it out of her purse and glances at the contact. She looks at Booth and arches an eyebrow. She answers the call while he picks up his. "It's Dr. Brennan."

_"I've changed my mind. I want you, Dr. Temperance Brennan, to drop the money off in ten minutes. Do it alone." _

She hears a crackling sound, and then a second later, she hears her daughter's labored breathing and muffled cries

_"Tick-tock." _ The phone disconnects after a three-second period of silence.

She lowers the phone and looks at Booth.

Booth sighs, a little defeated. "The call wasn't long enough to trace."

"We've got ten minutes. He wants the money in ten minutes behind the swings."

"Ok, I'll just call—."

"No, Booth. The kidnapper asked me, personally, to deliver the ransom. Just me."

"Bones, I—."

"I can take care of myself."

"You have no idea what he's capable of."

"Exactly, which is why we have to hurry."

He sighs.

"Booth, I heard Christine. She's terrified and hungry. Just step on it. I'll be fine. I'm fully capable of defending myself if necessary, but it's not about me, it's about our daughter, and if the kidnapper wants me to hand over the ransom alone, then that's what we're going to do."

"Okay, okay." He presses down the gas pedal and switches on the siren. He looks over at Brennan one last time before weaving his way through traffic.

* * *

**_What do you think is going to happen? _**


	7. Chapter 7

Booth pulls up to the park and shifts gears. He turns the key and looks at Brennan, who's sitting in the passenger seat with the duffle bag of cash on her lap. "Be careful, Bones." He pauses and waits until she looks at him before continuing, "I'm right here."

Brennan nods and unbuckles her seatbelt. "I know what I'm doing, Booth. I'll be careful."

He rests his hand on her forearm and sighs. "Bones, just be careful," he repeats and looks at her a little while longer.

She doesn't take her eyes away from him and tightens the grip she has on the duffle bag handles. She swallows and finally pulls her arm back. She opens the car door and closes it, making sure not to slam it. She leans forward, sticking her head through the open window. "Stay back. He was clear."

He nods. "Be careful," he says again for good measure.

"I'll be fine," she reasons. She doesn't let him say another word. She just turns herself around and leaves.

* * *

With the FBI on standby, Brennan starts to walk towards the swing set. She can hear her blood rushing in her ears and her heart is racing with each step. She can't be certain that she'll be fine. She has no way of knowing that, but she knows what she's capable of. She can handle this. She's been through worse.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, setting the duffle bag down at the foot of the swing set pole closest to her. She starts to walk back towards the parking lot, but stops when she hears rustling. She sidesteps and ducks down behind the bushes, peering over the top of them. She sees a tall, dark figure approach the swing set, so she creeps up behind the shadow.

The figure, clearly an amateur, goes to reach for the ransom, but senses someone or something behind him. He slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out a knife, turning around. He raises the knife and slices through Brennan's jacket, slashing into her left forearm before she has a chance to react.

She's running on pure adrenaline at this point, so it only feels like a pinch. She grabs the man's wrist, twisting it until it snaps. She then flips him, throwing him to the ground. She's momentarily distracted by a distant cry, her daughter's distant cry, which gives the man ample time to free himself from under her weight.

He manages to cut through her pants, putting a significant gash in her upper thigh, almost down to the bone. He bites his bottom lip, his attempt to block the pain, and pins her down with his knees, the knife hovering an inch away from her throat. He looks down at her, staring into her glassy blue eyes, and smirks. "Gotcha now, bitch."

* * *

Meanwhile, Booth's starting to worry. Brennan's been gone longer than he expected her to be. After all, she was only supposed to drop the ransom off and get back in the car. He can't take it anymore, so he gets out of the car and motions for the other agents to stay back a ways, but to follow him. He pulls his gun from the holster, cocks it, and takes steps towards the swing set. As he gets closer, he can hear his partner's gritted-teeth screams and another voice. "Hands up," he orders, upon finding the assailant on top of Brennan and noticing the knife flush against her neck.

"Agent Booth, you come to rescue your damsel in distress?" He keeps eye contact with Brennan. "Back off or I'll make sure my hand slips. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Hands up," Booth repeats, hardly phased by the man's bluff. "Bones, are you ok?" He's trying to keep his focus, but it's hard. He can hear her sort of whimper, but he can't see her, he can't see how badly she's injured either. He steadies his hand. "Bones?"

"I'm fine." Brennan's feeling a little dizzy, her vision fading in and out. She swallows and inhales. She squeezes her eyes shut and counts to three silently. "Three," she croaks out, and despite her decreased strength, she knees the man and thrusts the heel of her hand into his shoulder as hard as she can. "I'm no damsel in distress," she says with confidence as she gives him another hard whack, knocking him off balance. The knife ends up grazing her neck in process.

Booth gives the man a little kick, knocking him off Brennan completely. "Hands up." His voice gets louder as he takes a step closer. "Drop the weapon." His eyes drift to Brennan, but quickly fall back to the man with the knife. His finger touches the trigger as he breathes in and out. "Drop the weapon."

The man hesitates, but finally sets the knife beside him and slowly stands up, holding his arm against his stomach.

Another agent picks up the knife by the shaft, allowing a third agent to walk past Booth. He yanks the man's hands behind his back and cuffs him, everyone taking a perverse pleasure in the grunts and screams coming from the assailant. He pushes him towards the parking lot, making it a point to walk right past Booth.

Booth turns his head and eyes the suspect, his gun still raised and pointed straight at him. "Where is she?"

The man just smirks at him, arching an eyebrow. "Where's who?"

Booth takes a step closer. "Where is Christine?"

The man shrugs. "I don't know."

Booth pushes the barrel of his gun into the space between the man's eyes and allows his finger to keep its place on the trigger. "You messed with the wrong family."

"Booth," Brennan cries out to him, pleading with him.

Booth pulls his gun back. "Get him out of here." He pauses. "I want this whole place searched! Start with the bushes."

"Already on it, Agent Booth."

Booth sighs and slips his gun into the holster again. He rushes over to his partner and falls to his knees. He rips off his jacket and presses it against the open gash on her leg. "You're gonna be okay, Bones. You hear me?"

Brennan lifts her hand and rests it against his chest, giving him a nod and closes her eyes.

"No, no, Bones, keep your eyes open."

She opens her eyes again and lifts her chin, nibbling on the inside of her cheek.

He adds more pressure and shivers with each scream. To keep himself from completely losing it, he smiles at her and says, "We should go on vacation after this. Just the three of us. Somewhere with a beach, somewhere warm. Water, sand, sun, and some alcohol? How's that sound, Bones?"

"Sounds like a good idea," she says, her voice soft and breathy.

He smiles. "It does, doesn't it? It sounds amazing. We can get away. No skeletons, no murders, no paperwork, and no bad guys. Just you, me, and Christine."

She nods. "Mmhmm."

"Agent Booth."

He turns his upper body towards the agent calling for him, and his face drains of color. He looks back at Brennan and blinks. "Bones!"

She opens her eyes and furrows her brows. "Shhh. I have a headache."

"Look, Bones, look."

She tilts her head in the direction he's pointing, and her pain just seems to disappear the second she sees her daughter's face. The baby is cradled in the agent's arms, clutching his tie. Christine's cries have never been so comforting.

Booth gets out of the way when the EMTs arrive to tend to Brennan and immediately takes Christine from the fellow agent. He kisses her on the forehead and rocks her. "Shhh, daddy's got you, baby." He turns to Brennan and holds the infant close, allowing her cheek to touch her mother's.

Fresh tears fall from Brennan's eyes as her daughter's hand flails in the air. "Honey, I love you," her voice trails off into a whisper. She's feeling even weaker than before, but she turns her face into her daughter's cheek and kisses her.

Within a few minutes, Brennan is loaded into the back of an ambulance, Booth by her side with their daughter in his arms. He looks at his partner and the woman he loves, and he smiles. "I knew we'd find her." His eyes flutter between Christine and Brennan the entire ride to the hospital.


	8. Chapter 8

It's around ten on Sunday morning, and Brennan's asleep in a hospital bed, the sheets pulled up to her neck. She's lying on her back, almost completely still, her breathing steady and eyelids twitching. She's been passed out since around midnight, shortly after the pain medication kicked in.

She jerks and her eyelids pop open. She sits up and looks around. Her pupils are dilated, her breathing is erratic now, and her heart is beating faster, as she searches the room. She clutches the sheets and blinks slowly. "Booth? Booth? Booth!"

Booth appears in the bathroom doorway, but when he notices her wide eyes, sweaty skin, and quivering chin, he rushes over to her. He places a hand on her shoulder and buries his face into her hair, kissing the top of her head. "What's wrong? Are you in pain? Are you hungry? Do you need help getting out of bed? Do you need some water?" He sighs. "Are you okay?"

She's not listening to him. She's still searching the room, her body shaking. She hitches a breath and finally meets his eyes. "Where is she, Booth? Where's Christine?"

Max walks out of the bathroom with Christine in his arms. The infant is wrapped in a monkey towel and she's sucking on the bill of her rubber ducky. "She's right here, Tempe."

Brennan's shoulders drop and her breathing and heart rate begin to stabilize again. She doesn't speak. She just looks at her daughter.

Max steps closer to the bed and hands the infant over to her mother, adjusting the hood of the towel. "We were just giving her a bath, that's all. She's fine. Happy and smiley, just like always."

Brennan cradles Christine and lowers her head, kissing her forehead.

"Tempe, is everything alright?"

Tears start to well up in her eyes as she tugs on the towel, running her hand down her daughter's torso.

"Tempe?"

She takes her eyes off Christine, just long enough to see the concern look on Booth and her father's faces. "I'm fine. It was only a nightmare." She smiles when the infant hooks her hand around her finger. "Good morning, Christine."

Max turns to Booth and furrows his brow. He shifts his weight and touches Booth's arm. "Is she going to be alright?"

Booth shrugs and sighs, glancing down at the hand on his arm. "She's Bones. She'll be okay." He pauses, looking back at his partner. "I'm supposed to protect them. I failed. I failed both of them," he says under his breath, his voice too low for anyone but him to hear and understand what he's saying. _This never should have happened. None of it. _

"Take care of them, Booth." Max starts to walk towards the door, but stops when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns his head and sees Booth standing there.

"Let the FBI handle this, Max. Bones is dealing with a lot right now."

"Who said I was going to do anything?"

"Just let the FBI deal with the bastard, okay? I know you love her and would do anything to protect her, but stay out of it, Max," Booth warns.

"You should have killed him when you had the chance."

"Don't think that thought didn't cross my mind last night," Booth confesses. "And if he hadn't dropped the weapon when he did, I would have. I wouldn't think twice about it."

Max glances at Brennan and then goes back to looking at Booth. "Tell her I'll be back later." With that, he leaves, disappearing down the hallway.

Booth watches him turn the corner and then heads over to his partner's hospital bed.

* * *

Booth sits down in the chair and plays with Christine's toes. He looks at Brennan and tucks her hair behind her ears, getting her attention. "Hey, everything's going to be fine," he tries to reassure her. "Christine's only got bumps and bruises, your injuries will heal, and that son of a bitch is rotting in a jail cell, locked up for kidnapping and assault with a deadly weapon." He gives her the facts. He knows his assumption that everything's going to be fine will mean more if there's evidence to back up his claim—at least to her.

Brennan smiles. "I trust you."

He pushes himself out of the chair a little and leans over her, his lips brushing against hers. He breaks the kiss and sits back down, keeping his eyes on her.

"Booth?"

"Are you in pain? I can get someone to adjust your pain meds. Are you thirsty?" He stands up and pours her a cup of water, holding it out for her.

She lets out a soft chuckle and shakes her head. "I'm fine."

He knows she means it. She's not lying. She's not trying to make him feel better. She's genuinely okay. He can see it her eyes, her smile, the way she laughs. Plus, she rarely says something she doesn't actually mean. It's further evidence that everything is going to be fine—in time. Things will return to normal soon enough. "Do you think Christine understands what happened?"

Brennan watches as Christine goes back to sucking on her rubber ducky. "Fortunately, she probably doesn't remember what happened. She understands there's a difference between us and him, between safety and danger, though. I believe that, but you know I don't put too much stock into psychology."

He's about to go in for another kiss, but he's interrupted by a knock on the door. He sort of rolls his eyes at the visitor, sinking back into the chair.

"Oh, did we interrupt something?"

Booth nods. "Yeah, you did." He pauses. "What do you want? For the last time, Sweets, we—."

Sweets holds up his hand to cut Booth off and steps into the room. "I'm not here to talk, Agent Booth. I'm just here to see how Dr. Brennan is feeling, physically speaking."

"And I brought donuts," Angela says, cheerfully, appearing behind Sweets a couple seconds later. She walks right past the psychologist and sits on the edge of her best friend's bed, tickling Christine and then getting down to business. "Sweetie, how are you?"

Brennan swallows. "I'm doing as well as one can after being sliced three times with a sharpened instrument, Ange." She smiles, adjusting Christine and rocking her the minute she starts to fuss.

Angela laughs and nods. "Joking, that's a good sign, right?"

Sweet nods. "That's a possibility, but it's most likely a coping mechanism. It's Dr. Brennan's way of dealing with the underlying trauma of yesterday's events."

Booth grunts. "You _really_ need to get a new hobby." He runs his hand down Brennan's arm and cracks a small smile. It's not a funny joke, he's not even sure someone could actually call that a joke, but it's a small sign that things are returning to normal, albeit slowly. "Good one, Bones."

Angela sets the donuts on the tray and stands up. She gives Brennan a quick hug and sighs. "Please tell me you caught the guy who did this?"

Booth nods. "We got the last laugh. He messed with the wrong people."

"Damn right he did," Sweets blurts out.

Everyone turns their heads and looks at him, their eyebrows raised.

"I—I—I mean he totally messed with the wrong people," Sweets corrects, his eyes bouncing back and forth from Booth, to Brennan, to Angela. He grabs a donut and bites into it. "Mmmm. These donuts are great. You guys should totally have one." He looks away and swallows.

Booth stares at him for another few seconds and then decides it's a good time to get Christine dressed. He takes the infant from Brennan and walks over to the couch. He lies her down on the cushion and puts her in his all-time favorite onesie, her 'Daddy's Little Special Agent' onesie. He tucks her feet into a pair of striped socks and smiles. He hoists her up into the air and sets her on his hip, pulling at the fabric and smoothing it down. He walks over to the bed and sits back down in the chair, setting Christine in his lap. Now the attention shifts from Sweets to Booth. He blinks and looks up. "What?"

"Papa Booth is just very _hot_," Angela emphasizes, giving her best friend a smile.

Brennan's lips slowly turn up into a grin as she looks at Angela and then turns her focus to Booth.

Booth hands Christine back over to Brennan and then gets serious, "Bones needs to rest. Everybody out. Thanks for coming by." He practically pushes them out of the room and then shuts the door.

* * *

With Sweets and Angela gone, Booth crawls into bed with Brennan after she scoots over for him. He drapes his arm around her shoulders, leans in closer to her, and looks down at Christine, stealing a glance at his partner.

The room is pretty quiet for a while, with just the sound of Christine babbling and their breathing, until Brennan looks over at him. "Booth," she starts, and doesn't continue until she feels she has his full attention. "At any point yesterday did you think we wouldn't find her alive?"

He hesitates, a lot of different things running through his head at once. "Honestly?"

She nods. "It'll just be between you and me."

He sighs. "Yeah, there were a couple times."

She leans back against the pillow, leaning more on him, as she whispers, "Me too."

He slides his hand off her shoulder and squeezes her upper arm. His eyes fall back down to their daughter, and he smiles as she falls asleep in her mother's arms. It's yet another sign that things are going to be fine and things _will_ return to normal. Maybe not any time soon, but eventually.

* * *

**_The End. _**

**_Thanks for reading! _**


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